


In You, In Me (or the Science of Individuality)

by blazingphoenix



Category: Fringe
Genre: AU, Fringe Kink Meme, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 14:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazingphoenix/pseuds/blazingphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lincoln finds a familiar face is residing in his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In You, In Me (or the Science of Individuality)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fringe kinkmeme prompt:  
> 'So Blue!Lincoln was the first one to touch Captain Lee after he was shot, he had Lee's blood all over his hands. Maybe because they're doppelgangers...or some other reason...Lee's katra, his soul, ends up in Lincoln's head. And once he realizes that, how do they get it out? Cloning? Adapt shapeshifter tech? Fly to Vulcan for a quick fal-tor-pan? (Maybe not that last.) And all the meanwhile Lee is living in Lincoln's head, cracking jokes and backseat driving on Lincoln's life.'
> 
> Set post-'Everything in its Right Place'

The whispers start three days after Lee's death as voices that Lincoln doesn't quite understand but knows are there.  They're faint, barely distinguishable most of the time, and they don't come to his attention fully until he is in the quiet of his new apartment.  There, he knows they exist because there is a ringing in his ear that doesn't stop.  But he brushes it off as tinnitus, from all the exposure to guns and sirens and basically everything about his job, the loud noises that do not quite go away.

But they get louder, and Lincoln becomes aware that it's only one voice, male, and one that is very familiar.  He doesn't make the connection however, until he actually _sees_ him while at headquarters, standing in the corner of his vision complete with jacket, cargo pants and the air of confidence that Lincoln himself never seemed to have.

It's disconcerting, seeing the dead Lee.  He was at his funeral, there when they lowered him into the ground (albeit, he was in a car), and yet he's right in front of him.  He stares of course, and Lee stares back, before he opens his mouth and says: "You just gonna look at me all day?"

He's hoping that someone is going to jump out and yell 'Surprise!', say that Lee's death was all a set-up and that the Captain is actually fine and dandy.  But when no one reacts to his comment, when no one even throws a second glance at the supposedly dead Agent, Lincoln knows something is wrong.

Liv is sitting just in front of him, hand buried under her red hair as she taps her cuff, answering one of the hundreds of calls that come into Fringe Division everyday.  He taps her shoulder and she turns, eyebrows raised under the locks of hair in an expression of 'what?'

He's hesitant, but when he sees Lee give him a smirk, he asks her, "Who's there?", pointing in Lee's general location.  But when Liv answers, she doesn't give the answer he hopes, instead saying, "That's Agent Marvin.  Why?"

Lincoln gives Lee a worrying look before looking back at Liv and saying: "Oh, no reason."  Liv doesn't look assured but still turns away, and all Lincoln can think is: this is not good.

***

He doesn't say anything yet, not even to Walter Bishop when he comes to visit, because normality has become a blurred line, a tiptoe between normal and weird; he thinks that maybe this is one of those things that will just go away.  But Lee looks at him, stares, and makes remarks on everything he does, trying to get a reaction, something Lincoln's determined not to give to him.  He tries to start up conversations, or continue the one they had before he died.  He rattles off facts about himself, lets Lincoln think about them.  He tries to ignore them of course, and continues with whatever work he is doing.

"Do what you want, I'm still going to be right here," Lee teases out, two days later while Lincoln is at home doing reports.  Somehow, he's got his hands on a ball and is bouncing it off the wall as he lazes on the couch.  The thumps go right through Lincoln's head, *thump* *thump* *thump*, until Lincoln's had it and he throws the nearest item he can get his hand on (a comic) at him.

(Unfortunately) it passes through him, which is no surprise seeing as Lee is _in his head_ , but the man still has the cheek to look at Lincoln and mock-pout, complaining, "Ow."  Lincoln huffs and returns to his work, silently wondering if earplugs would still work if the problem was in his head.

***

He's marched to the infirmary once Liv catches him talking to himself.  Quite literally.  Not that she can see him of course, but when he's shouting at thin air in the middle of an empty room, then yeah, he can see her reasoning.  Lee strolls slowly in front of them, walking backwards while he grins at Lincoln.

The doctors give him a thorough check up, stethoscopes (more complicated looking than the ones Lincoln's familiar with), blood tests and good old fashion psychology tests, complete with ink blots and subtle questions.  All the while, Lee's sat in the corner, bored.

"Kinda throwing patient-doctor confidentiality out of the window with me here," he remarks as Lincoln looks the other way, refusing to acknowledge the presence of his dead Alternate.  "Oh, c'mon," Lee protests.  "Don't pretend I'm not here."  Lincoln hears an audible *pop* and Lee appears in front of him.  He looks as surprised as Lincoln feels, and mutters, "Cool," and Lincoln agrees, 'cause there's no other word to describe it.

He's shoved into a machine the next time the doctors return, and Lee has the decency to simply explain to him when the doctors don't that this allows them to scan brains (which, Lincoln supposes, is this universe's equivalent to a MRI scan).  It's quick and there's practically no hassle at all, just a bright flash and he's being pulled back out again.  It leaves him disorientated though, and he stumbles a little as he is put on his feet, rocking back and forth from heel to toe.  There's pressure around his arm, fingers that circle his biceps to help stabilize him.  He wonders if the creases appear on his clothes to others, because when he looks up, he sees that Lee is the one who's grabbing him.  His grip is firm, solid, _there_ , and Lincoln starts to think that maybe he's more than a hallucination.

***

The psychological evaluation is...enlightening.  The shrink they send him to is a woman, light blond hair cut short.  She's seems friendly, genuine, but then Lincoln reminds himself that all shrinks seem like that (at least the ones he's seen).  The smile on her face seems permanent, fake, forever stuck there to give patients a false sense of comfort.

"So you say you're seeing Captain Lee?"

"Yeah.  He's sitting right there."  Lincoln points to the drawers where Lee is perched, who waves at the shrink and pulls a face, whispering to Lincoln: "I don't think she believes you."

He can't tell if the shrink is trying to sympathize or mock him when she turns to look in the direction he indicated, but either way she still says, "I don't see anyone there, Agent Lee."

"Of course not," he answers, keeping his face stoic.  "He is in my head."

"So you admit to him being a creation of your own mind?"

Lincoln sighs.  "I thought he was, until he started thinking for himself.  Look Doctor..."  He looks at her tag.  "Anderson.  I accept that you may not believe me, I know I would think I was crazy, but this is not a hallucination.  Or at least not an ordinary one."  From the corner Lee stares, until Lincoln gulps and continues, "Doctor, I think Captain Lee is in my head."

***

The results from Lincoln's scan prove him correct.

"The electrical activity in Agent Lee's brain is higher than an average human's," drones the head doctor as Lincoln and Liv stare at him.  (Lee props himself against the wall near the door.)  He points to a graph.  "There does seem to be two sets of brain waves in your head Agent, so the Captain could very well be in your mind."

Lee's eyes fall wide, mouths a very sarcastic 'No' before sighing, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.  Lincoln exchanges a glance with Liv, who now looks at him with a slight glaze in her eyes, like she's trying to look _inside of him_ , trying to see the ghost of her old partner.  He swallows, because it's weird, to be stared at yet not.  He knows she liked -- no, loved him, he's seen the way she stares at the photos.

And damn he's going to regret this, but he wants her to be happy.  "Well, do you know any ways to get him out?"

The glint (exicitement? glee?) that flashes through the doctor's eyes scare him, reminds him of Doctor Bishop when he realizes something (and wants to try it), and immediately regrets asking.

"We've never encounter anything like this before, Agent, at least not like this."  The doctor eyes Lincoln, an analyzing eye that sweeps Lincoln from head to toe.  "There's a variety of things we could try, but until we can consult with specialists and guarantee that it's safe, I'm afraid you're stuck with the Captain."

"Oh wonderful," says Lee from the side, "We get to spend more quality time together."

"Shut up, Tyrone," he retorts audibly in front of Liv and the doctor, and smirks when he sees a frown form in Lee's brow and his lips thin, still not comfortable with the use of his middle name.

***

Maybe it's the fact that Lee is in his head, sharing the same brain but Lincoln finds himself changing.  It's the small things first, not gelling his hair in the morning before work, the looser ties, the un-stiffening collar.  His shoes, once polished and smart, start to lose their gleam as he forgets to clean them, can't be bothered to clean them.  One day, he trades his suit for shirts and cargos when he's ripped too many to count and thinks that he should start wearing something more durable.

It's this change that prompts Liv to ask him if he's alright, make him look in the mirror and realize how much like his alternate he is becoming.  Lee stands in the corner, just behind and beside him to let Lincoln compare themselves, and remarks with a grin, "You suit this look."

He wants to throw something at him but he knows it futile, it'll only go right through him.  He grits his teeth and narrows his mind, doesn't want to think about the glee of his Alternate standing in the corner.  When he first came over, made that decision to come here, he told himself he wanted to stay true to himself.  He didn't want to change, to lose the things that made him him.  But now he's going against that, and it's tearing him from himself.

The next day he buys a new suit, gels his hair, shines his shoes and (more or less) struts into headquarters, getting raised eyebrows as he walks to his desk and sits; makes Liv turn around and say: "I see you're back to being yourself."  Her voice gives nothing away, not whether she's glad or relieved or sad; Lincoln doesn't know what to make of it.

What he does know is that Lee is shaking his head, laughing.  "You don't seriously think that's going to impress her."  He points at the suit, sweeps his eyes from head to toe.  "That's not how you get girls over here.  This," he points to his hair, spiked up for as long as Lincoln can remember since he first appeared, "is how you get people to notice you."

Lincoln rolls his eyes and looks away laughing.

"What's he doing now?" asks Liv while she's turned away.  A quick swivels swings her so she faces him, eyes bright.  "Is it about his hair?"  His face must have given something away because she laughs and says, "Thought so.  He always did spend a lot of time with his hair.  We always suspected he spent more time on it than I do with my own."  She winks and goes back to her work, leaving Lincoln to silently laugh at Lee, who stands a little shell-shocked at the insult to his hair (and ego).

***

"We think we've found a way to remove Captain Lee from your head, Agent."

It takes the doctors of this universe two months to tell him those words.  Though, if Lincoln thinks about it, it probably would have taken doctors back home two years (barring Walter, who would have presented a solution in two weeks, but it would neither have been safe nor legal).

They tell him that it is still an experimental project, but early tests have shown promise and once they've worked out the kinks, they should be able to strap him in and remove Lee from his mind.

What they don't tell him is what exactly the project is.  When he pushes, they pull away, avoiding answering him as to exactly what the process entails.  It makes him nervous to say the least, because how can he be put at ease when nobody is telling him what he's getting himself into?

"Relax," Lee tells him when he starts to pace, when he starts to think about what the doctors are saying.  "It can't be that bad."

***

Except it is.

"The process," the head doctor explains when Lincoln's finally got hold of him, around 20 people in from the start of his hunt, "involves hooking you up to an electronic pulse machine.  This means we are going to send electricity straight through your brain.  It should carry the Captain's conscience out and into a body..."  That's when he gets hesitant, stops until Lincoln's glare makes him talk.  "But it could end up frying your brain.  Agent, we may get him out, but there's no way of saying whether you'll be okay too."

"No."

He almost thinks he says it, but he doesn't feel his mouth move nor does the doctor in front of him react.  "No," Lee repeats from the corner.  "I know what you're thinking, but you can't do it.  It may be your body, but I'm not letting you risk your life to get me out.  It's not worth it."

Lincoln shakes his head.  Lee is right, it is his body, but _he_ doesn't have a say on what to do with it.  "When is the soonest you can get him out of me?"

"It'll be a couple of weeks before we move on to human testing."  (By human I mean you, he doesn't say.)  The doctor looks at him, eyes soft.  "Agent Lee, I know you understand the risks, but I recommend that you talk to someone before you make your final decision."

"If you won't listen to me then at least talk to Liv," Lee says, aside with his arms crossed. "I think she would have something to say about this."  The glare he gives to Lincoln isn't meant to be taken lightly, is a threat which says: if you don't, I will haunt you for the rest of your life; which given their current situation, Lincoln concludes is very possible.

***

He does eventually talk to Liv, after Lee has driven him up and over the wall with annoyance.  She's quiet on her part, listening to him until he has finished, and looks at him with sympathy in her eyes.

"As much as I would love to see Lincoln again," she answers softly, "I don't want to lose you either."  And that makes his heart pang, because maybe he's become a bigger part of her life than he realized.  "In the end, it's going to be up to you to make that decision."

He nods, ignores Lee's stare from the corner, because it's his choice.  As much as he doesn't want to die, Lee was (and still is) one of the most respected Fringe agents on This Side.  If there is a chance that they could get him out, Lincoln's not going to resist.

"I'm going to do it," he says, both to confirm with himself and to tell Liv, who looks at him with a sad smile and nods.

***

Lee refuses to talk to him for the next couple of days, disappears from sight to the little corner of his brain that Lincoln presumes he resides in.  He knows he's still there because whenever he asks himself how he is, there's an answer that isn't his own telling him to go away.  He shrugs and leaves him be, if Lee wants to make a big deal of it, that's fine with him.

Life continues, and while it's what he's wanted for awhile, Lincoln finds it extremely overwhelming to be the sole voice in his head.  He doesn't know what he feels, whether he's grateful for the silence or slightly disappointed.  But either way, there must be a difference in his behavior as Liv says, "Lee, something wrong?"

He would like to shake his head, brush off her comment with a "I'm fine."  But he is an honest boy who doesn't lie (at least not to a woman who shares the same face as Olivia Dunham - who is Olivia Dunham), and so he says, "I miss him."  Lincoln half expects Lee to suddenly pop up at the confession, reveling in the ego boost, but he doesn't.  There's no cheeky comeback or cheer or laugh or anything, just nothing.  Liv looks at him, nods but doesn't say anything.  Lincoln supposes there's nothing to say anyway.

***

Lee finally turns up again when he's lying on a bed in the DoD's medical ward, ready (but not) to get Lee out of his head.  His arms are crossed, but the furrow in his brow is not one of anger.

"I..." is the first thing out of his mouth before he closes it again, eyes darting downwards to catch Lincoln's as he swallows.  "Thank you.  For doing this."  The look he wears is one Lincoln hasn't seen much of, or in fact seen before on Lee's face: guilt.

"I'm sure you would have done the same for me," he jokes, smiles until he realizes Lee won't smile back.  "What will you tell people when you come back?"

Lee shrugs.  "Don't know.  Haven't really given it much thought.  Maybe I can tell them I was on an undercover op.  Maybe I won't ever be allowed to see them again." He lets out a puff of air.  "Maybe it won't be any different from just being in your head."

They both look up when the door opens, when men in white coats start to walk in.  Behind them they haul a gurney, a tarp dropped over the top, and a sleek machine, with wires twisted neatly and resting on top of it.  Lincoln eyes the covered object, notes the rises and dips of the sheet, traces the mountains and the plains.

The rolling objects come to rest beside him, and the men begin to untangle the wires, stretch them out so one side reaches him and the other to the tarp.  One of the white coats lifts the sheet, minutely but enough for Lincoln to freeze.  Underneath, blanket-white and unmoving, is him.  Or at least something that looks like him.  He can see Lee staring from the corner of his eye too, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, face shifting to a color akin to the body he stares at.  If Lincoln had thought watching his dead body being lowered into the ground was unnerving, actually seeing himself lying there is terrifying.

"Agent Lee."

Lincoln's eyes snap away, looks up to the white coat who spoke to him.  The man is dark-skinned, freckles dotting his skin in dark spots.  Unlike the others, this man -- doctor doesn't seem as clinical, cold as the others; actually smiles, and Lincoln feels himself relaxing.

The doctor, Doctor Deacon as he introduces, runs him through the procedure as another white coat starts to stick wires to his head.  He tells him of how they will be sending an electric shock through his brain, straight into the clone of Lee's body that lies beside him (which he explains is a molecular reconstruction of his body, and not the dead one that now lies beneath the ground); how they will send a secondary shock right after to start Lee's heart.  "Hopefully," he says, smile small and reassuring, "Captain Lee's conscience will hitch on the pulse and be transferred over."

"How many times have you done this?"  The question is out of his mouth before he knows it, because he's curious; because deep inside him there's a want -- no, a need to survive, and he wants to know his chances.  Lee looks down from the side, at him, with sympathetic eyes.

"In this situation?  The first," Deacon answers truthfully, and Lincoln can see it in his eyes.  "But if it puts you at rest, we've tried this with a computer entity and computer chip before."  He smiles.  "That worked out quite well."

Lincoln raises his eyebrows and lets out a small laugh because, yeah, a computer entity and a computer chip is a reassuring story.  He repositions himself, moves so the wires fall to rest more comfortably on his head, so he stares at the ceiling and not at the machines and doctors.

"Are you sure you still want to do this?" comes Lee's voice.  "You don't have to.  I'm content staying in your head."

"I'm sure.  Besides, I'm not being made to do this," Lincoln replies, "I'm doing this because I want to."  A little smirk crosses his face.  "Besides, I don't think either of us would have survived each other much more."

He grins as Lee laughs lightly, as machines start to whirl to life, a soft hum filling the air and Lincoln can feel a tingle on his forehead.  There's a shout from one of the doctors and he nods in response, the tingles increasing to pinches as the humming gets louder.

"I'll be seeing you," he says to Lee, smile wide as he feels the current run through his body.  There's a faint buzz in his ear now, the edges of his vision fuzzy.  In the blur he thinks Lee nods before vanishing, color disappearing in his vision as the energy spikes and everything turns black.


End file.
